


Circus Act

by themoonalwaysfalls (dandyqueen)



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome, chrollo gets to be the meat in that man-sandwich, hxhbb, hxhbb16, possibly sadistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:04:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7059652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandyqueen/pseuds/themoonalwaysfalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not often they get together like this, but when they do, oh, it’s a fucking circus. </p><p>Written for the Hunter x Hunter Big Bang 2016!</p><p>(written as hxhheadcanons)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circus Act

“ _How are you today, Illumi? ♥”_

Hisoka’s voice is a purr, even through the static over the call. Illumi knows what the magician looks like at the moment he uses that breathless rasp; goblin grin, eyebrows arched, most likely right out of the shower or just finished with a fight. He’s probably enormously hard; he always sounds like he’s palming himself, touching himself just thinking about Illumi, which Illumi is entirely aware that he does. He’s _seen_ him do it, in public no less.

Hisoka is the one to set the meeting up. He always is, since he’s the one horny enough to need them both at the same time, not that either one of them minds. It’s usually a call in the middle of the day to both of them, out of the blue, asking if they’re busy, but never really requesting their company. Both end up showing up anyway; they know what he means when he asks how their day is going. They can never say no to the magician.

Illumi is busy when Hisoka calls, but then, he’s always busy. “What is it that you want, Hisoka?”

_“Are you busy right now?”_

_Of course I am_ , he wants to say, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything in fact, just listens to Hisoka’s labored breathing, waiting for the clown to ask what he _knows_ he’s thinking about.

“ _Chrollo’s not busy right now_ … _”_

 _Ah_. That’s what he wants. He definitely must have been in a fight.

Illumi considers declining the offer, he really is quite busy. He tells Hisoka _no_ pretty regularly, agreeing just often enough to keep himself satisfied and to keep the clown interested. He’s never said no to Hisoka and Chrollo, though - both of them together will keep him entirely satisfied for a long, _long_ time. It’s the closest thing Illumi gets to fun.

“I suppose I have time to indulge you.”

Hisoka makes that _noise_ , the one that makes Illumi wonder if he might have just came all over himself. “ _Oh,_ good. _The usual place, I suppose?_ ”

“Whatever you’ve set up will be acceptable.”

Illumi hangs up without much afterthought, other than perhaps the thought of what the clown had just been doing. They never agree on a time when Hisoka calls, never even mention one, but the three of them all seem to show up at roughly the same moment. It’s an odd thing, a conglomerative event fueled by fate it would seem, because none of them give their predicament a second thought until they see the other two. Then, well, it gets a little _weird_.

One would think that because Hisoka is the one to call and beg, he would be the first to show up, but that’s not the case. Chrollo is always waiting, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible and less enthusiastic than he really is; his tells are quite obvious, unfortunately for him. He looks everywhere but at his bedmates, toys with the edge of his civilian clothes (which are only marginally less extravagant than when he’s trying to appear authoritative and intimidating for his troupe), and always worries at his bottom lip with his thumb. He doesn’t say much until things are underway; once they’ve begun, he’s quite _vocal_.

The bad thing about about threesomes with trained killers is that they can tell when one is simply trying to appear calm; coincidentally, because it makes them intimately more sensitive, that’s also a very _good_ thing.

Chrollo enjoys the submission. No, he’s not always the middleman in these encounters; in fact, it’s usually Hisoka requesting submission. When he does submit, he has to be in a particular mood, one that results in bleeding rents deep in his skin, rasping throats for days, odd bruises in odder places. He prods at the finger-shaped bruises on occasion, reveling in the hot, sluggish ache each stab brings.

Hisoka is a fan of all things as long as something makes him bleed. Illumi has learned how exactly the clown likes to bleed, where from, and just how much pain he needs to apply to cause exquisite and profound torture. Hisoka is an orchestrator, an instigator, and Illumi takes great pleasure in forcing him down on his knees, mouth open, begging and craving pain.

Illumi is along for the ride, quite literally. He’s never been one to give in to his impulses, having calculated nearly every waking moment of his life, but there’s something about the combination of Hisoka and Chrollo that he just can’t seem to pass up. Maybe it’s the pain; both of them have a strange craving for pain, and Illumi has never been one to back down from doling it out. If he can get himself off, well, that’s just a nice bonus.

Yeah, the first time Hisoka suggested it, it was a little... _strange_ . Not undoable of course, just different. Neither Chrollo nor Illumi was prepared to give him a real answer, a definite _fuck yes_ , but they ended up showing up anyway. It was easy to think about being with Hisoka, fucking him senseless, but it was another thing entirely to garner enough of his interest to actually engage with him in such pursuits. He was finicky at best in making plans, and both Chrollo and Illumi had been wary about his presence. He could have just been getting them together in an odd attempt to fight them both at once, but that ended up being very much _not_ the case.

No, they ended the night tangled up and joined together in an otherwise pristine hotel room, and they had left it smelling of blood and sex, cum stains and red smears everywhere. Illumi would have loved to have seen the maid’s face that next morning.

Illumi expected this day would end much the same.

He checks the clock and realizes that he still has several hours before he will be expected to show up. It’s all well and good of course since he still has to finish the job he’s doing, but he feels buzzed, a little lightheaded even, like he’s had a few drinks and he’s itching for a fight. It was the kind of buzz that he knew would end in bloody nail marks and white-knuckled clutching. It was going to be that kind of night.

-

Chrollo is always first, and he’s always early. He is not a nervous man by nature, but in this case, he is sure that being nervous is perfectly acceptable. After all, in just a few short hours, he’ll be getting fucked by two of the most dangerous men on the planet. He is excited, he is nervous, and he is outrageously, amorously hard just thinking about his submission.

His skin tingles at the thought, and he tightens his thighs unconsciously. Perhaps Hisoka will fight him for the position of being submissive, perhaps Illumi will order them into their roles. Illumi is good at that; he demands obedience, and he receives it without question (though Hisoka has a bad habit of pouting; it is a habit that Illumi has since enjoyed trying to break).

Chrollo doesn’t fight hard when Hisoka challenges him. Quite the contrary - he finds that he enjoys a break from Illumi’s fingernails ripping down his back. The soft feel of Hisoka’s mouth around his cock, even the underlying threat that the clown might very well bite his dick off, is a welcome change from the alternative of Hisoka fucking him until he’s screaming. Not that he minds, of course, it’s just that sometimes he gets odd questions about his raspy voice from the Troupe. And he has more than enough needle tracks down his back from Illumi’s carelessness with the needles, thank you very much, although a slip of his hand is rather rare.

He finds himself sitting cross-legged outside of their rendezvous point hardly an hour after Hisoka hangs up the phone on him. He is always early, and somehow, he’s always in the vicinity when Hisoka calls. Hisoka could be following him, but Chrollo isn’t really concerned; the clown has always had an unhealthy attachment to him, but the worst he’s ever done is annoy him. Well, that’s the worst he’s ever done outside of their agreed meetings at least.

Illumi would be along soon if he was on time like usual, and the sight of him was enough to send a shiver down Chrollo’s spine. The assassin was intimidating without even trying - muscular and lean, with that long black hair and those black eyes. His appearance alone made Chrollo wary, though the man had never accepted a contract for a hit on him. However, Chrollo would never deny that he enjoyed the way the assassin’s hair fell in his face when his nails were digging into his sides.

He is still stuck in the middle of his daydream when the subject of his fantasies arrives. Illumi is dressed like a prince, and even on his off days, Illumi never goes casual. He will insist that he _is_ casual, and _no_ , he’s not uncomfortable, but Chrollo doesn’t believe him. There’s so many damn buttons and straps - it drives him nuts. It takes forever to get his clothes off when they get started; intense concentration is required every time Chrollo is ordered to undress him. At least Chrollo has the courtesy to wear civilian clothes.

Illumi sits down next to him, legs crossed, looking straight ahead. They rarely talk while they wait; they prefer to let the anticipation simmer. Chrollo simply leans against the wall of the building, enjoying the afternoon sunshine and the cold weather. Hisoka really couldn’t have picked a better day to get them warmed up.

Hisoka is last to arrive this time. Sometimes he’s the final piece of the puzzle, sometimes Illumi likes to keep them waiting, but Hisoka has been practicing patience as of late. He finds his bedmates chatting idly outside the door of the rendezvous point, Chrollo gazing distantly at his own lap and Illumi staring as intensely as he always does. He likes when they’ve started to get antsy, when they’ve started to doubt that he would show. Really, they should know by now that as flighty as Hisoka is, he would _never_ pass this up. Still, the idea that he has skipped out on them riles them up, and he _loves_ exploiting that anger.

He says nothing when he sees them, though his smirk widens. He unlocks the door - he’s the only one with a key - and just blows past them. He has no time for words, at least not yet. He has a few things to do before they can begin. Sheets to wash (he didn’t do it last time), rooms to clean. He simply needs it all in order before they mess it all up again. He sets to work while they lounge on the couch, once again staring idly at each other.

Chrollo is trying his best to remain nonchalant, but he’s found that he always fails to keep his composure. It’s the excitement, really. He’s always been a flawless actor, but he can never keep it together for long when he gets this excited. The idea of their mouths on his, their bodies pressed into his. He has memories of what Illumi is capable of, the pain and bruises, the burn that sears his muscles the next morning when he stretches. Hisoka as well has left him with more than pleasant memories; teeth marks on his thighs, bleeding scratches down his back, and all manner of bruises have marked his body as a result of the clown’s affection, if one could call it such.

Inside the privacy of Hisoka’s safehouse, Illumi sits closer that he ever would have when they stood outside. His arm rests across the back of the couch, falling just behind Chrollo’s shoulders, and the thief can smell him - cinnamon and lemon, bright and sharp. His scent makes Chrollo’s stomach burn and his mouth water.

Hisoka does not seem to have noticed that Illumi has clearly taken immense care to clean himself up. The clown hasn’t noticed the sharp scent, nor Chrollo’s own atmosphere of tea and leather. If he had, he’d already have situated himself between them, or stretched over their laps to force their full attention on him. No, instead their host continues to clean until he pops his head around the corner that leads to the bathroom and grins at them.

“You could get started, if you like,” he purrs, the edge of a toilet brush visible from just around the corner. The scent of cleaning fluid is strong. “I’ll be done soon.”

Illumi rolls his eyes. “It’s not necessary to keep cleaning. We’re not here to judge the pristine quality of your home.”

Hisoka closes the bathroom door behind him. His goblin grin never leaves him. “I only wanted to give you two a chance to get started.”

“And miss out on the fun? That doesn’t sound like you, Hisoka.” Illumi’s comment is taken in stride, and Hisoka shrugs. His movements are lithe and slow, like a fox creeping up on it’s prey, as he comes to rest at Illumi’s feet. Illumi is still not quite used to being stared at like a piece of meat, but Hisoka doesn’t threaten him. “You’re usually in the thick of things.”

Hisoka rests his arms on each side of Illumi’s thighs and glances up at him, then sneaks a peak over at Chrollo. Chrollo knows what the clown is doing - he’s seen this routine before. “Perhaps I had a _taste_ for something in particular today, Illumi.”

Illumi leans down so that his lips are just inches from the clown’s. “You’ll have to convince me that you deserve it, first.”

It seems at first that Hisoka is going to kiss him, to lunge forward and smash his lips against Illumi’s until he draws blood or until Illumi bite him, but he remains still. No, the redhead maintains eye contact, a look dark enough to mean anything from a knock-down, drag-out fight, to shoving Illumi to the floor in an attempt to entice the assassin to turn him over and fuck him whether Chrollo is involved or not. Even then, Hisoka holds still.

His breathing is quick and labored as he turns to look at Chrollo. His nails are clenched deep into his palms, and then he relaxes. If Illumi wants him to work for his submission, then Hisoka will work for it.

Hisoka doesn’t take his eyes off Chrollo. “Then why don’t you enjoy an appetizer? Will that appease you, Illumi?”

“We’ll see.”

This is what Chrollo has been waiting for since Hisoka called him hours ago. That _look_ , and the purr of Hisoka’s voice, and the callouses on the clown’s hand as he begins to work at the zippers and closures of Chrollo’s clothes. He is happy to rest against the back of the couch and let Hisoka undress him. The redhead is always careful about undoing every knot, if only to make sure that Illumi is enjoying what he’s doing to their third partner. If this were just Chrollo and Hisoka, the thief had an idea that the redhead would be taking things much faster.

Hisoka opens the front of Chrollo’s shirt and covers the smaller man’s body with his own. His lips meet his neck, which is the closest that Hisoka will ever come to kissing anyone on the mouth. Chrollo was the first to notice this; he still has a scar across his lip as a result of the only time he has ever tried. The clown’s teeth scrape down his neck, his lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Chrollo’s stomach burns as he presses his groin upward, though he is met with a hand shoving down hard on his stomach. Hisoka is in control here; best to let the clown do his work.

He makes his way down Chrollo’s chest, sucking at his collarbone, the hard line between his pectoral muscles, down over his stomach. His teeth scrape over the lines of his lips as he slides his arms up under Chrollo’s thighs. The thief is heavier than he looks, though that is of no consequence to the redhead currently lifting his hips up off the couch and over his shoulders. Hisoka’s nose is pressed against the filling line of Chrollo’s pants, and he brushes his lips over the cloth.

“Stop teasing him,” Illumi orders. His voice is steady and intense. Watching Hisoka’s process is always intriguing, and it’s difficult to refrain from jumping right in with him. “The faster you suck him off, the faster we can all participate.”

Hisoka peeks over his shoulder at the assassin. “Impatient, Illumi? We have all day, you know.”

Chrollo’s impatience is quantified down to a huff. “I wouldn’t mind if you hurried up, actually.”

Hisoka’s answer is to yank the thief’s pants down and swallow him down to the root. Chrollo’s hand hits his mouth to muffle the gasp that passes through his lips, but Illumi snatches his hand away before his palm can even touch his lips. No disguising the reactions the clown elicits - those moans are Illumi’s favorite part.

Hisoka is good at most things without even trying, and sucking Chrollo’s cock happens to fall into that category. He’s good at taking it all in, swallowing without gagging. He’s good at swirling his tongue around the head, lavishing attention on the thick pink tip. He’s good at making Chrollo groan and clutch at his shoulders, at making him thrust up into Hisoka’s mouth and grab at his hair. The thief comes without warning him, but Hisoka never cares. The clown can always tell when Chrollo is reaching his limit because he hollows out his cheeks and sucks _harder_ , never slowing down, always diligently finishing him and dragging his tongue up the underside of the head once he’s down. It’s a final hoorah, a last kiss, though Hisoka doesn’t like kissing, and Chrollo’s back arches him up and further down Hisoka’s throat.

Illumi watches in silence as Hisoka finishes. The clown is still arched over Chrollo’s fucked out form, still eying him like a piece of meat. Hisoka would keep going if Illumi would allow him to, and really the only reason why he doesn’t have three fingers stuffed up Chrollo’s ass right now is because Illumi hasn’t ordered him to. That, however, is not what Illumi wants at the moment.

“Switch places with him.”

Clearly, that’s not what Hisoka was hoping to hear. “I’m not done.”

Illumi’s hand snakes through Hisoka’s hair. He likes the feel of the clown’s bright red hair between his fingers; once he’s cracked apart all the gel that keeps it in its halo, he can run his fingers through it and enjoy the softness. He likes to yank it when Hisoka disobeys him.

Hisoka’s neck cracks when Illumi jerks his head back. The assassin’s lips meet his jaw; his turtleneck is obstructing his neck, so Illumi can go no lower. He licks along his jaw, moving to nibble on his ear. “I have a better outlet for your talents. Switch places.”

Chrollo had decided less that five minutes after hanging up on Hisoka that morning that he would not be submissive that night, that he wanted to be the one drawing blood on the clown and being ordered around by Illumi. Not so anymore; Hisoka’s artful tongue had disoriented him, made him complacent. He allows Hisoka to flip them around so that he straddles the clown’s thighs, so that Hisoka’s impressive, still-clothed cock is pressing obtrusively against his stomach.

Illumi’s hands are on the thief’s thighs, sliding up his sides, reaching around his waist to caress the ridges defining his stomach. Chrollo is still the only one naked, but by the look on Hisoka’s face, he won’t be the only one for long. While the redhead watches, hand down the front of his pants, biting at the edge of his other hands, Illumi traces the dips of Chrollo’s chest. His lips are at the juncture between his neck and shoulder blades, cutting bite marks and bruises into his skin. The assassin is not gentle, and that’s the way Chrollo likes it.

Chrollo can’t see him, but he can sense Illumi stripping off the too-formal top he walked in wearing. He can sense him unlacing his pants and balancing precariously on his side of the couch, working to strip them off and discard them on the floor. He doesn’t have to sense Illumi pull himself free from his pants - he can feel the assassin’s cock lining up against his lower back to match Hisoka’s dick pressing against him from the front.

He’s waiting to be ordered what to do, waiting to be told to strip Hisoka bend over, anything to appease his partners. He doesn’t have to wait long, and really, he doesn’t have to be told. Illumi is nudging him forward, asking him to bend and start stripping Hisoka down. The redhead is doing his best to keep his hands to himself until Illumi tells him otherwise, but Chrollo can feel him vibrating with anticipation.

Finally, with Illumi’s fingers raking through his hair, he takes Hisoka’s cock into his mouth and swallows him down. Chrollo is a firm believer in returning the favor, and teasing Hisoka always gets the best reactions. He braces himself against the couch and hollows his cheeks out, his lips pressed down against the root of Hisoka’s cock. The clown’s moans are obscene bastardizations of his name, of Illumi’s name, blasphemies that burn Chrollo’s ears and make him cup the clown’s balls and squeeze just hard enough for Hisoka to rake his nails down his back.

Chrollo’s groan is muffled around Hisoka’s cock, and just as the clown begins to dig into his back, he feels Illumi’s hands spreading his ass open. The assassin’s fingers are cold and soaked with lube when they press up and into his hole, the burn amplified by the sting of Hisoka’s nails tearing at his skin. Illumi’s fingers are long, probing inside of him, rubbing and stretching him and forcing moans out of him that are barely audible over the sound of Hisoka’s groans.

Hisoka’s stamina is almost more than Chrollo and Illumi can handle, and at Illumi’s quiet urging, Chrollo rakes his nails down Hisoka’s chest. The redhead needs the pain, craves the abuse, and if Chrollo and Illumi neglect to give it to him, he’ll likely just do it himself. He doesn’t have to though, and the ache left in the wake of Chrollo’s hands pushes him closer to the fuzzy edge of his vision.

Illumi does nothing to help Hisoka’s control. He’s rocking up against Chrollo’s back, pushing Chrollo’s head further down on Hisoka’s cock until his lips touch the base of his dick, moaning in that way that only Illumi can, with his tongue between his teeth and his impenetrable concentration.

He lines himself up against Chrollo’s backside, still thrusting into him with his fingers to make completely sure the thief is adequately prepared. He doesn’t particularly care if it hurts him, but Illumi doesn’t like to waste time once he’s inside - he makes sure his partners are prepared so he doesn’t have to let them acclimate to his size. When he pushes inside, he’s pretty sure he can hear Chrollo gag, but he’s too busy working himself inside to pay much attention.

This is Illumi’s favorite part, when all control is handed to him. Hisoka likes to fight him too much when he’s being fucked, but Chrollo takes it like a champ. He lets Illumi fuck him and guide him, lets Illumi push him down hard onto Hisoka’s cock, lets Hisoka fuck his mouth with that fervor that the clown is famous for, lets Illumi dig his nails so hard into his scalp and back that blood runs down his skin in slow rivulets. He won’t stop until he’s come inside of him, or until Chrollo’s come all over himself. It’s a toss-up whether he’ll allow Hisoka to get off - sometimes it’s fun to watch the redhead finish himself off. No matter what though, Illumi is the one in control.

Hisoka is so, so close. He’s trying to hold out, trying to keep the feeling on Chrollo’s mouth on him, but with Illumi rocking into him and Chrollo ruining his control, he’s getting close. He’s bearing down on the thief’s hand, his dry fingers leaving streaks of pain in their wake as fingers probe up against his prostate.

He comes like a firecracker down Chrollo’s throat, hard and burning, nails of one hand digging into meat of the thief’s shoulders, the other tangled in his hair. He can’t breathe, can’t think; he can only focus on the pinprick pressure squeezing his abdomen and curling his toes. Illumi is still thrusting into Chrollo, rocking him forward, pushing him down on Hisoka’s stomach. Hisoka knows when Illumi is close, when he gets rougher and stops thinking, when Hisoka comes and Chrollo is just trying to keep going. Hisoka sighs as his orgasm passes, and he can sit back and watch Illumi finish.

With Chrollo no longer suctioned to his dick, Hisoka can appreciate the way he looks with Illumi inside of him. Chest red, hair destroyed, nipples pert; his cock bobs violently with each thrust, full and pink and untouched. Chrollo’s face is screwed up in pain from the ignored throb in his cock, which Hisoka is almost itching to take care of. He won’t touch him though, not unless Illumi tells him to. Until then, he’ll watch Chrollo’s face from between his legs and enjoy the thief’s skin brushing against his calves.

Illumi is slowly losing himself, clutching Chrollo’s hips, mouth open, head back. Chrollo is warm, searing hot even, shaking from the stress and the pressure of being fucked hard enough to shove him into Hisoka’s stomach. Illumi reaches around to cup Chrollo’s balls and stroke him from the root up. He’s heavy in his hand, swollen and rigid, and Chrollo jumps like he’s been burned with every stroke.

Hisoka helps, and even though he hasn’t been ordered to, he slots himself on the couch under the thief and grabs his chin. He rarely ever kisses, but Chrollo’s mouth is plush and red and Hisoka knows that his bottom lip would taste just right caught between his teeth. The thief still has the taste of Hisoka’s cock on his tongue - a taste that Hisoka honestly could never get tired of.

Chrollo shudders under his grip, pushed forward by Illumi’s next thrust, and comes over Hisoka’s stomach. His arms collapse, leaving him to be fucked against Hisoka’s chest, though the clown makes no move to push him off.

Finally, Illumi follows him over that precarious cliff, chasing the hot pinpricks of pleasure that blow his pupils wide and makes him scrape his nails across his own scalp. He lets Chrollo pump him for all he’s worth and push his ass back against his cock. Illumi collapses down against the thief’s back, sweating and fucked out, creating a veritable dog pile of his bedmates.

They don’t move for a long while. In fact, it takes the rumble of Hisoka’s snores to make Illumi get up. He’s not worried about the clown being uncomfortable of course; it’s just that Illumi doesn’t like being sweaty and Chrollo is really hot against his chest.

Illumi almost doesn’t want to leave - almost. He could go another round, maybe shove Hisoka to his knees and fuck him into the carpet with Chrollo watching. He could just stay and sleep really. He would still be dozing if he’d been fucking Hisoka, but there’s always the underlying tension of being in the same room as them. It’s tedious being in a room with two other trained killers, even if he’s not in any immediate danger. Hisoka always wakes up wanting to fight (or fuck again), but Illumi is never in the mood to fight after sex. Chrollo usually just slinks out if he’s no longer required as a fucktoy. He feels limber and lucid, like he could take both of them for another round again and finish just as refreshed as the first time.

He moves all the way across the safehouse so that he can lounge on Hisoka’s bed, which is a huge, plush behemoth that would have been far more comfortable to fuck on than the clown’s heinous, threadbare couch. He knows Hisoka will join him; the clown’s need for touch is truly insatiable. Chrollo’s presence is up in the air - it really depends on where he has to be and how soon he has to be there.

Hisoka follows him to bed shortly, though the clown isn’t done with him. Illumi finds himself being straddled, Hisoka’s naked ass slotting perfectly over his rapidly filling cock.

“You didn’t think you were going to sleep, did you?”

Hisoka voice is low purr in his ear, a pleased noise that makes Illumi want to flip him over and fuck him stupid into his own sheets. Illumi threads his fingers through the clown’s hair. “Not with your track record, no.”

Hisoka’s chuckle resonates through the room. “Shall I go and wake our third party?”

“Well, we certainly can’t let him rest, can we?”

Hisoka wastes no time in hopping off the bed and sweeping back into the other room. Chrollo’s dazed groans of protest can be heard from the bed, and the clown comes in with their bedmate thrown over his shoulder. He’s dropped unceremoniously on the bed and straddled from behind; it’s comical almost, with Hisoka’s hugely muscled body covering Chrollo’s leaner form.

Hisoka cuts his eyes over to Illumi. “What _are_ we going to do with our thief, Illumi? We can’t let him leave, and we’ve got things to do before he can sleep...  
  
Illumi leans over to tilt Chrollo’s chin up. “Oh, I think we can find _something_ to do with him…”


End file.
